


The Dressing Room

by CyanideCherub



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Dress shopping, Dressing Room Sex, F/M, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Indulgent, Semi Public, plus sized reader, prompto worships his lady tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:15:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23051545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyanideCherub/pseuds/CyanideCherub
Summary: Prompto takes his GF shopping on the Crown's bank account for an up and coming wedding.Fluff and kisses ensue!
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Reader, Prompto x fat reader, Prompto/Reader
Comments: 10
Kudos: 49





	The Dressing Room

**Author's Note:**

  * For [queenhomeslice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhomeslice/gifts).



> This is for queenhomeslice ! She's lovely, wonderfully talented lady, and deserves for Prompto to know what she looks like in her fabulous dress. Kinda based on her Prompto/Reader AU fics but also on her because she's amazing. Enjoy missus.

“Just be honest with me,” you sigh scrutinising your reflection in the mirror. “What do you _really_ think?”

You'd been in this high-end dress shop for an hour, you felt ridiculous stepping through it's lavish gold-gilded doors, marble decked floors and rails with clothes more expensive than you'll make in a life-time. You felt out of place, it was one of the aspects of Noct's life that made you super uncomfortable. It made you aware of how common you were, even if he never did. The personal dressing room you'd been allocated was probably nearly as big as your apartment with sofa's and mirrors that you could never afford on your own in a million lifetimes. It was so obtuse, and awkward, it made you kinda wish Noct was here to take away some of the discomfort of the wealth.

At this point you'd probably tried on twenty different dresses, none of them seemed give you that prep in your step. In all honesty you were surprised the even had them in your size, in the back of your mind thinking Ignis had phoned ahead demanding the poor shop assistants stock them ahead of your arrival. This dress could be the one in a normal situation, but you'd been staring at your own reflection for so long it no longer seemed you were looking at yourself, just some chubby stranger that had your tense brow and sense of frustration.

A soft, exasperated sigh brushed against your ear as long, dexterous fingers trailed around the ruched chiffon material that cinched your waist, resting atop your soft stomach.

“I think,” began Prompto, a smile curling on his face as he pressed a kiss to the crook of your neck. “That you are the prettiest thing in the continent and that you've rocked every dress you've tried on. Babe, you're going to look amazing at this wedding, don't sweat it.” His chest felt warm against your back as the pair of you looked at your body in the full length mirror. You conflicted in every aspect of your beings. He was lithe, blonde and splattered with a galaxy of sweet, brown freckles. You were full, soft and made entirely of curves. He was sporting ripped jeans, military style boots, oversized lumberjack shirt, beanie and an array of jewellery. You were stood in a beautifully crafted chiffon dress in a deep claret, a plunging neckline, (which was doing wonders for your cleavage) with gentle ruffles at the shoulder and slight pleats in the skirt which almost floated whenever you moved. A contrast, but you fit nonetheless, matched perfectly and thoroughly in love.

“Besides,” he continued, squeezing his arms around your waist. “It's just some snobby hedge-fund brat. We're going to support our BFF and eat all those rich people canapés. Right?”

You let out a laugh and quickly covered it with your hand. “Prom!” You reprimanded him as his antics caught the attention of the dithering shop assistant in the background, distracted momentarily from her clients who actually had money. You felt him shrug against your back, a dozy grin on his face. “Yeah, I know, I just want to look good for you and Noct. I don't want to embarrass you both...”

Prompto took one of your hands and span you round on the marble to face him. His pressed a swift kiss against your small hands before his eyes caught yours. The dazzling range of blues always had your heart beating in the back of your throat, you thought with months of dating that feeling would dissipate, nu uh. Those angular eyes and the forests of long lashes just had you feeling hotter under the collar than you already were.

“You could never embarrass us, don't even think that. We'd be proud of you if you showed in a potato sack and crocs. In fact, if you did we'd do the same.” His hands ran over your bare arms leaving a trail of heat he went. They rested against your chubby cheeks, the pads of his thumbs rubbing across the corner of your mouth. Prompto risked a kiss, despite how exposed you both were. You could see the way he bit his lip before claiming yours in the corner of your eye in the dressing room mirrors. His hands wandered the length of your form, held in firmly by the gown and it's chiffon pleats. You could feel him smiling against you, sensing the ideas his mind were plotting as his fingers ghosted along your collarbone and the edge of the deep-seated cleavage of the dress, walking a dangerous tight-rope between fabric and flesh.

He parted just before the assistant turned back round, seeming to have this inane sense of when people were watching him. Prompto swept a stray hair back around your ear, his burning touch lingering against your already hot cheeks.

He hummed to himself as he pretended to flatten out the non-existent creases and folds, enjoying the feel of your heady flesh under his fingers.

“You know what, I think this the one.”

The answer seemed so sudden, so very final.

“What makes you say that?” You ask, curious as to how he found his conclusion.

There was a glint in your boyfriend's eye, cheeky and arousing in tandem. Prompto leans in, lips brushing against the bottom of your ear, teeth nipping the lobe. “Well, it's the only dress I've seen on you this afternoon that I'm desperate to see you out of. Why don't we get it, take it back to mine and have demonstration.”

He was practically purring against you, hands desperate to wander; down your spine, across your heavy chest, soft stomach and as close to his goal as he dared.

“Or maybe I should just demo it here, against all of these mirrors?” He wouldn't, would he? Even if it was just talk, the thought got you excited.

Prompto's tongue drew the length of you neck before nipping at the crux of it. His name came out as a strained sigh, but it was really you pleading for him to continue. How did he always manage to do this, especially in public places? It was almost like he enjoyed parading your pleasure in front of complete strangers.

“Excuse me Miss, how is the gown, is every thing alright?” The sales assistant called from the show floor.

A pitted blush crossed your cheeks as you quivered in your boyfriend's hands, his affection unrelenting as you replied. “Y-yep. Everything is fine. I think I've found the one, gimme just one minute please.”

“Make it five,” he whispered, as half-lidded eyes and swollen lips devoured you, planting needy kisses against the bare flesh of your neck, between your shoulder blades and tops of your arms.

“I meant five minutes!” You spat out, biting back the ecstasy.

The assistant replied but you hardly heard it. Prompto left your sphere for just a moment to close the changing room door. “Just checking it's definitely the right one, gotta look our best for the Crown, y'know?” You could see him smiling sweetly at the shop assistant and making polite conversation as you stood and quivered on the spot, relishing in his fading touch, eager to feel him against you and in you.

The door clicked shut, giving you both total privacy and Prompto free reign. You watched as your boyfriend strode towards you, unbuttoning his shirt as quickly as he could, rolling up the sleeves and watching with a smirk as you followed his every movement.

“Now then,” he said running his hands through his hair as he threw the beanie to the floor and unbuckled his belt. “Face the mirror, Babe. I'm going to show you exactly what I'm going to do you after this wedding, so watch closely, 'kay?”

You felt yourself flipped round, cheeks and body pressed firmly against the mirror, watching yourself from all angles as his hands roamed you

“What happened to waiting until we get home?” You whined, breathe fogging up the mirror.

Prompto's laugh ran through your body as he reached under your dress. “What can I say, weddings get me excited.”


End file.
